The Great Adventure

During the night, using a convenient log and the delay timer function on my camera, I attempted for about an hour to capture a photograph of the star lit night sky. Unfortunately try as I might I could not set the exposure time to any longer than 15 seconds, which was obviously insufficient and I retired back to my tent frustrated at 2 am. 

I awoke to yet another glorious day, the sky already blue, a much deeper blue than we ever seem to have in England. I wonder whether this is connected to the air pollution that is so much the norm in England that we never notice it anymore and now that I was out west in an unpolluted area, this was why it was so much clearer.

As we had only a short day before us we had a leisurely breakfast of toasted bagels and jam - absolutely delicious, before once again loading my back and heading onwards and upwards back onto the trail at 8.40 am.

I was having a love/hate relationship with my back pack - it had been named "The Beast" on my second day out and I was hoping that as the holiday went on my body would become more attuned to its load. I already was a past master at tweaking the various straps to marginally shift the load onto another part of my anatomy, being particularly good at juggling the weight between my hips and shoulders. Unfortunately in an attempt to rest my shoulders my hips were taking a beating and already I had a couple of raw patches from the belt. 

Additionally my Camelbak for reasons unbeknown had suddenly decided to start leaking, so to add to the fun I had the odd sensation of water running out of the bottom of my backpack, "cooling" my shorts (fortunately made of  tough nylon) and then running down the back of my legs. It was to drive me mad for days. The Camelbak with its hydration tube is an absolute godsend, allowing me to remain hydrated by sipping water on the move without the need to remove my pack and I did not want to forgo its use. I eventually discovered the problem was caused by the sealing ring washer on the filling cap becoming displaced whilst screwing it shut and by taking particular care in this regard had no further problems.

Balance and "bottle" is the key to a successful river crossing

Shortly after heading out from camp I experienced another first  - a river crossing. Dave had mentioned that there were a number of rivers to cross (well lets not exaggerate to much - fast flowing streams). All I had experienced so far  were easily crossed balancing on rocks (beware the slimy rock!) or bridged by conveniently fallen/felled trees.

This one over Teton River had a rather posh bridge constructed but unfortunately it was suffering from wear and tear. The picture of Dave crossing the river does not really do justice to the situation as it only shows the second part of the bridge. Additionally the river was relatively deep and fast flowing at this point. Add in that he is five feet above the water and balancing whilst carrying a 60lb pack on his back (remember to release waist belt and chest strap in case you fall in and need to discard pack) and its not as simply as it looks.

Christine meanwhile managed to find another place to cross upstream, but I was not paying attention, being distracted by Dave and my camera, so when my turn came after much "faffing" about trying to locate Christine's route I decided to don my sandals and ford the river. This I successful did with the aid of my trekking poles, the water coming up to my knees. It was the first time my feet had been washed in five days.

"Horse Meadow"

The trail continued upwards and I should point out to the more observant amongst you that although our daily mileage for the last couple of days had significantly reduced the path was unrelentingly upwards.

Whilst not officially within any National Parks the Alaska Basin does have restrictions as to the lighting of fires and the overnight stockading of horses (yes you have to share the sometimes very narrow trails with horses). Just before entering the basin we found a wide meadow area (which I have called "Horse Meadow") with a restricted choke point access where horses resting overnight could be easily contained.

A final push and we entered the Alaska Basin which was a huge area. The trail head mileage signs are deceptive as they only show the distance to the entrance of the basin. We carried on into the basin looking for a suitable place to camp. As we were planning a day hike (lightly loaded) to experience the splender of Hurricane Pass we were staying two days at this site and were therefore on the lookout for a good position.

The onsite shower (cold only)

Discarding our packs Dave disappeared off to hunt for a campsite. He returned some minutes later, his face broken into a broad grin, to say that he had discovered a sheltered spot with great views, a flat grass area to pitch and a shower! A shower had we arrived back in civilisation?  Well not really. It apparently only ran cold and as can be seen from the picture could not be turned off. 

Blissfully happy with our find, we discarded our packs on our proposed campsite and adjoined to the other side of the stream to have an early lunch of  tuna, pita bread and mayonnaise, which was one of my favourites. In case readers may think my comment odd I have two observations about walking at higher altitudes.

First owing to dehydration - as the air is quite dry at these altitudes, the body seems to lose a lot of water and it is necessary to drink large amounts of fluids. Despite drinking continually one is constantly thirsty and I wondered whether this was my bodies way of ensuring that my circulation remained fluid.I believe after approximately a week at altitude the body starts to produce additional red blood cells, to assist with the transport of oxygen thereby "thickening" the blood, so it may be an ongoing reaction to this. Secondly one sense of taste seems to decline so food with a strong flavour is sought after and appreciated. 

Our deluxe camp site

Finishing our lunch Christine noticed a couple of people appear over the ledge in front of our proposed camp site. We hastened over to introduce ourselves and to ensure that they did not have any designs on our site - first come first served being the rule.

It transpired that they were the precursor of a large family group and shortly thereafter a group of eight people (mum, dad, friend, two teenage daughters and three sons) appeared. On their annual trip to the basin they had started early and hiked up from the bottom of the South Teton trailhead in 4.5 hours and we had apparently "pinched" their regular site. I felt quite sorry for them as we had almost cheated by camping half way up the trail. Disappointed, but with good grace, they headed past and camped further up with hill about 300 yards away.

We setup camp and Christine disappeared for a walk around the basin, whilst Dave and I settled down to enjoy the views and the sun.
Ineffective mosquito defence

So had we finally arrived in our camping utopia?  Unfortunately not as there was the small matter (and I mean small) of huge volumes of mosquitoes. With barely a breath of wind there were clouds of the pests all sounding like  dive bombers heading past my ears. But woe betide when all went quiet as that meant they were settling down for a feast. Mosquitoes apparently locate their prey by the carbon dioxide given out and DEET is supposed to block their ability to detect this gas. Well I must have smeared myself in half a bottle but it seemed to have very little impact on the cloud and even adding clothing seemed to have little effect.

The larger flies were almost as bad, but they at least could be readily "swatted". Strangely unlike the flies back at home they seem disinclined to take any form of avoiding action (perhaps they were used to feasting undisturbed on the backs of mammals) and were easily killed. The only distasteful matter being if they had already painlessly feasted, when swatted they left a blood red smear - presumably my blood.

It was not long before my legs and back started looking like I had been peppered with shotgun pellets, with a huge amount of large white welts. I complained to Dave that he seemed to be immune, but he merely observed that he was being bitten, just that his body had ceased to react to the bites.

Moose!

It was a hot afternoon and Dave and I had long discussions, enjoyed the scenery and chatted to the occasional hiker who appeared. By the time Christine reappeared from her walk an hour and half later, there were 4 other groups camping in the general vicinity. 

An agreeable tea, but by 8pm we decided to seek sanctuary from the even heavier clouds of mosquitoes that were becoming downright unpleasant and retreated to our respective tents. No wonder this given the prevalence of mosquitoes in Alaska was this called the Alaska Basin!

Given my failure to capture any night pictures the previous night I contemplated attempting a picture of the sunset and braving the flies headed outside again. Dave and I were discussing the best location to take such a photograph, when around the corner came a horse. Well I thought briefly for a moment it was a horse then we both recognised it as a female moose, who unconcerned strolled past us and into the nearby pond where she proceeded to eat the moss from the bottom.Totally mesmerized I went mad with my camera - more images here . We watched until the light faded and the sun went down before retiring to our tents for the night.

Picture Gallery